


attention seeker

by kitchensink



Category: Futurama, Undertale
Genre: Crossover Pairings, Drinking, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, according to futurama they can so like just go with that, can robots get drunk, drunk robots, mettaton has hpd and u cannot convince me otherwise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-12 23:40:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5686123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitchensink/pseuds/kitchensink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a second, he looks at Mettaton, who tilts his head up slightly, then slowly seems to relax. </p><p>“You’re an evil seductress,” he says.</p><p>He reaches out and waves the bartender over again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	attention seeker

**Author's Note:**

> im in crossover robot shipping hell and i require some assistance please help me

“Hey, baby, can I buy you a drink?” 

Mettaton doesn’t know what he’s doing here. It had, hypothetically, seemed like a good idea going to a robots dominated bar but that idea had been promptly turned on it’s head when no one had really paid attention to him. 

Except this one.

He looks like a very standard, sturdily built robot. His eyes are lidded, a cigar hanging from an open slit in his warbly mouth plate - his voice is terribly human and is free of the robotic clip on Mettaton’s own. 

“Uhhh, hell _oo_ ,” he says, waving his three fingered hand in front of Metta’s face. “I’m over here, sweetcheeks.” 

The cigars smoke makes his eyes fog up. Mettaton purses his lips, “Yes, I can very clearly see you, mister…” He purposely leaves the unfinished sentence hanging in the air, a soft question. 

“Bender!” The robot chirps, spitting out his cigar and promptly setting the drab, plush carpet around them on fire. Nearby, an purple haired cyclops shouts, “Bender!” and tosses water onto the flame. No one else seems to notice. 

So he’s _that_ kind of guy.

“I’m Mettaton, entertainer extraordinaire,” he offers a hand. Bender doesn’t take it, his extending his arm over the counter and grabbing a beer from the fridge on the tenders side. 

“So, whatsa beautiful lookin’ fembot doin all by yourself in a sleazy bar like this one?” Bender asks, cracking the bottle open with one of his fingers. Mettaton brings his hand up to his face and laughs.

“Oh, no, darling,” he says through a giggle, eyes glinting in the dimmed, colored lights, “I’m not a girl. I’m just _beautiful_. Now, didn’t you say something about buying me a drink?” 

Bender blinks his eyes rapidly - or, more accurately, his LEDS flicker off and on - and leans away, holding the bar to keep himself on the stool. “You’re a guy? But - but you -” he releases the bar from his grip and makes a curvaceous, womanly shape in the air. Mettaton bites his lip to hold another laugh. 

“The… drink, Bender?” he asks, cupping his face in his hands, pouting his lips and lidding his eyes. If Bender had lips, they’d probably be peeled back in disgust, but instead his mouth plate is just a few scritchy lines. For a second, he looks at Mettaton, who tilts his head up slightly, then slowly seems to relax. 

“You’re an evil seductress,” he says.

He reaches out and waves the bartender over again.

-

Mettaton hadn’t thought he would wind up being a lightweight.

He had thought wrong.

Two and a half drinks later, he’s leaning his head against Bender’s shoulder, who has his arm wound around his shoulder, sipping at some space-age looking martini. He can hear his cogs turning, his mechanics working without flaw. 

“Ya know,” breathes Bender, if that’s even an appropriate word to use for a _robot_ , “I ain’t never seen a guy robot with such… attractive assets.” 

Mettaton snorts, extending one of his legs from under the bar and pointing his toe at the ceiling. He leans his head away from the other robot, tilting his neck back and winking sloppily at Bender. “You mean _these_?” 

Someone whistles from the other side of the bar. He revels in the attention and the not-so-soft, “wo-o-oah, mama,” from Bender. He knows that he’s gorgeous. He’s just glad that others can appreciate it. 

He lets his leg rest utop Bender’s. The unit tosses back the last bit of his drink in one huge gulp, then slams the glass down onto the counter like he’s preparing to do something. Mettaton rests his chin on his fingers and smiles coyly, “whhhhat?” The word slurs strangely out of his mouth. 

Bender burps a puff of flame. He doesn’t really look at Mettaton. 

Which is, like, not at all what he wanted. 

Using the only method he knows how - flirting - he attempts to reel him back in. He extends his leg, flexes his foot and presses it to Bender’s cheek, the one not face him. He pulls his leg back, forcing Bender to look at him. 

Then he falls out of his chair. 

His eyeliner is smeared on his cheek, his lipstick is wearing off, but he feels good, bubbly and bouncy and not caring that things are sloppy right now. “Lost your sense of balance?” Bender asks.

Mettaton tosses his head back, soul glowing brightly in his glass-tube torso. “Nnoh, no, just drunk, I suppose, help me up,” he lets his arm extend out farther than necessary, watching as it helplessly falls to the ground in a small coil. 

An orange haired human calls Bender’s name - the unit turns towards him, making a hurried shoo motion before hopping off of his stool and helping Mettaton gather himself up. On stumbling, wobbly legs, he gets lead out of the bar. And he really doesn’t mind one bit.

“You are completely useless,” Bender spits as he opens a hovercab door for him, “but luckily I, Bender, the greatest robot in all existance, am here to assist you.” 

Mettaton smiles. 

-

He hadn’t expected Bender’s apartment to be so… 

The word isn’t coming to him. There is trash littering every other surface, clothing tossed hazardly onto lamps, and the general stench of _boy_. Mettaton doesn’t say anything, and lets himself be lead to Bender’s bedroom. 

It’s, admittedly, a bit nicer than the rest of the space, though it’s still messy. Bender lights a cigar as soon as they step inside.

“Listen,” he says, holding up his hands, “I’m not usually one for these kinds of generosities, so don’t think I’m going to let you hang out here in the morning. I want you out by the time Fry drags his fleshy self out of bed, so by at least noon. Unless Leela is here. Oh, ho ho ho, I gotta check! I’ve got the perfect prank for this exact situation!” His voice pitches up, and he looks childishly mischievous for a second. Then, he looks back at Mettaton, leaning on the wall. 

“Oh, right. Anyway, you gotta be out by noon. But…” Bender averts his eyes, “you can stay here. For tonight. Just don’t think of it as me being soft on you or anything, just because your pretty.”

Mettaton doesn’t say anything, but he knows that’s precisely why. 

Bender puts out his cigar and gestures to a mattress on the floor. It’s probably from the side of the street.

He stumbles across the room and slowly winds his arms around Bender’s neck - the other robot buzzes, machinery thrumming under his cool exterior. Mettaton is still sort of drunk, the world warping at the edges, but he can think clear enough to lean forward and gently place a kiss on Bender’s mouth plate. Tiny sparks tickle his cheeks. He laughs. 

Bender is barely able to keep from cooing, “baby,” his own arms winding around Mettaton’s waist. 

-

He doesn’t leave Bender’s room until after four pm the next day, having been asked to go grab some beers from the fridge. 

In the kitchen, leaning against the counter, is the orange-haired human that he can vaguely recognize from the bar. Fry, he assumes. When Mettaton saunters past him, Fry stiffens visibly, and follows every action with his eyes. He seems to want to say something as Mettaton grabs two beers and closes the fridge with a bump of his hip.

He doesn’t manage to get anything out, but he sputters like an idiot when, just before he goes back into Bender’s room, Mettaton twists his head around to him and winks.


End file.
